I played for Mike Tomlin in his first season. This is how he carried on the Steeler legacy

This story is part of Peak, The Athletic’s desk covering the mental side of sports. Sign up for Peak’s newsletter here.

Willie Colon played offensive line for Mike Tomlin on the Pittsburgh Steelers from 2007 to 2012. Tomlin walked away as head coach of the Steelers earlier this month after 19 seasons.

The Steelers won the Super Bowl in February 2006. When Pittsburgh drafted me in April that year, the team was on fire, and they walked and talked like it. I tell this joke all the time: I didn’t win jack s—, but I was at every party acting like I did. There was so much hype and attention around that team.

When Bill Cowher walked away a year later, after the 2006 season, all the players were eager to figure out who would be the next coach. A lot of people thought — and I thought — it was going to be Russ Grimm, our offensive line coach. Everybody respected Russ like a five-star general. He seemed like the heir apparent to B.C. 

Of course, that didn’t happen. We got Mike Tomlin instead.

When he walked in the building, he looked like he could be standing next to us on the field. He was 34. The guys on that team had just lost a coach whom they admired and loved. It was like: Hey man, you want me to follow you, and we don’t know much about you. And you look like you could be my brother. 

It’s hard to grab the keys to the Porsche and not crash it. Mike T had to prove his leadership and manage the personalities and temperaments of veteran players — guys who were Pro Bowlers, who had just won a Super Bowl and who didn’t really know much about him after playing for Cowher, a Hall of Fame coach.

His management skills, at his young age, were so impressive. He had to garner and demand respect, but he didn’t do it by being a hardass. He didn’t try to etch himself into something that was built and doing well. What he did was say: I’m going to lock arms with you, I’m going to put my best foot forward, I’m going to be deliberate and consistent with my message and how I approach the day. 

Guys slowly started to buy in because of how consistent he was, how deliberate and intentional he was. He would always say something that holds true for any boss: “I’m going to treat everybody fairly, but I’m not going to treat everybody the same.”

After practice, he would come into the locker room, and whether you were a practice squad guy or the great Troy Polamalu, Mike T would have something to say for each guy:

Hey man, how’s your mom and dad doing?

I saw you give up that play in practice. You can bet your ass they’re coming at you this week.

How’s your sister?

I need you to get your weight down.

I watched this dude do that damn near every day. You never want to work for an organization where you have to talk to the guy in the ivory tower from the ground floor. Mike T was on the ground floor with you, giving you the message and direction.

If you had a gripe, he gave you an opportunity to say it. There was no reason to talk to the media about it or complain to your position coach. He was walking up to your locker, and you could say whatever the hell you had to say.

In any work setting, there’s a person who sits around the table and complains about what’s wrong with the company, and then, when the boss walks in, that same person is over there pouring coffee, quiet as a church mouse. Mike T weeded out a lot of nonsense by doing that.

He had this knack of looking you right in the eye and telling you who you were and what he needed out of you. He never dwelled in the gray. It was refreshing because he let you know where you stood, and he wasn’t afraid to tell you each and every day.

For me, I think he understood where I came from, being a young guy coming out of Hofstra; he had played at William & Mary. He knew I was raw, but he gave me an opportunity. I think he recognized the fight I had in me and what I was willing to do. He understood that I was going to go to bed with football on my mind and wake up with football on my mind. I needed to grow up in a lot of ways, and his patience and ability to develop young men into men helped me do that.

I felt like he saw me. 

Willie Colon, left, played for Mike Tomlin from 2007 until 2012. (Photo by Al Bello/Getty Images)

He used to say to us young guys: “You can stand in the middle of our practice field and just soak up a wealth of knowledge from watching guys all around you being great at their craft.”

At the end of practice in Pittsburgh, you could see James Farrior and Larry Foote running gassers. You could look in the corner and see Casey Hampton and Aaron Smith working on their hand placement. You could see Hines Ward running extra routes. And this was all after practice. That was indicative of the locker room, but it was also indicative of Mike T. He was always telling us there was more work to be done.

When people talk about culture, that’s it: People working extra to be better at their job. That really encouraged people in my class and behind me to want to do more. 

It wasn’t just about carrying on the torch for him, either. He also realized he was going to have to evolve the Pittsburgh Steelers as an organization.

In his first year, we played the New England Patriots. That was the year they went undefeated in the regular season. In a team meeting that week, he told us: “I could take this group and put us in any back alley in the country, and I know we’ll come out unscathed because of how tough we are. The problem is, the New England Patriots are just as tough, but they’re smarter than us.”

Yeah, we prided ourselves on being the most physical outfit. That was our mindset: We can play you on the field, or we can get it popping in the parking lot. Wherever you want to get this ass-whooping, we’re going to give it to you. 

But we had to elevate ourselves from the neck up. That’s what the Patriots did. I played those teams. They had that same moxie as us, but from the neck up, they were smart. They were prepared. 

So Mike T told us: “We have to do the same thing for us to be where we need to be. We gotta not only be tough and rugged, but between the ears we need to be as sharp and as disciplined as them.”

Lastly: Mike T understood the value in oral history. He understood that we had six Super Bowl trophies in a glass case, and each one told a story about men from all different walks of life, all different creeds and religions, collectively buying into one goal. He welcomed those guys in the building to talk about that — their journey and what they did and didn’t do.

I loved seeing Mel Blount in the building. I loved seeing Franco Harris walking around. I loved seeing guys from the Steel Curtain. 

That was important.

Full circle: I hadn’t been to training camp since I left, and this summer I went back. To be honest, I was nervous. I didn’t know anybody in the offensive linemen room.

I walked on the field, saw Mike T and gave him a big hug. The offensive line was off to the right, and they went through their little warmup. I played with big guys, but these dudes were big; I don’t know if I’ve shrunk as I’ve gotten older. They all looked like tall red oaks. 

Then Mike T walked up on them and said: “Everybody on me.” He said: “I want to tell you about a guy who gave his heart and fought for the Steelers.” 

He told them all the stories, all the crazy s— I did and what type of ball player I was. I was standing there and looking at the linemen, and they were listening, drinking it all in. Then he said: “Willie Colon, come over here and introduce yourself to the group.” 

I was like: “Yeah, all the stories are true,” and they started laughing. I gave them the quick one-two on how to approach the day and what it meant to be a Pittsburgh Steeler.

Mike T allowed me to walk across that bridge to a new generation of Steelers. It was gratifying on my end because I had former players pour their mindset into me: what it meant to be a Steeler, how to play like a Steeler, how to approach your day and what it meant specifically to be an offensive lineman for the Pittsburgh Steelers. 

That is how I learned to become a Steeler. And that is the legacy Mike T carried on. As he always said: “The standard is the standard.”

— As told to Jayson Jenks